Sonnet for a Woman

     In China, we wrap cloth around our feet
Urging toes to take distorted shapes.
Tighter for a place with the elite,
Not a cry of pain from us escapes.
Our tender, fragile bones are cracked and broken
Shackling us as prisoners of our home
Destined to be quiet, meek, soft spoken,
Waiting on a man who is free to roam.
Nowadays these bindings squeeze our waists
We sip our low-fat shakes and nibble carrots.
Skin stretched tight to suit another’s tastes
Regardless of our other strengths and merits.